Breathing His Breath
by Circular Infinity
Summary: RanmaAkane oneshot. A look at what Akane feels when she's with Ranma. It takes place awhile after the end of the manga.


Author's Note: This was not originally intended to be fanfiction. It started out as a writing exercise,   
  
but I thinking about Ranma and Akane at the time and the couple in the story just became them.   
  
Please review, I would greatly appreciate the input, especially constructive criticism. Thanks.  
  
Summary: Ranma/Akane one-shot. A look at what Akane feels when she's with Ranma.   
  
It takes place awhile after the end of the manga.   
  
Disclaimer: I do not own "Ranma Half". This is intended for fun and in no way intended for profit.   
  
All copyrights belong to their respective owners.  
  
March 2004  
  
~~~  
  
Breathing His Breath  
  
The world has narrowed to breathing. Not just the sound, for there is almost no   
  
sound, but the feel. In and out. Up and down. Short and full. And not just yours. His too. Your   
  
breathing isn't synchronized and sometimes your chest presses against his unevenly. These are the parts   
  
no one tells you about. Not that you had ever thought about it either. Everyone had always stuck to the   
  
obvious things. Of course, so did you, so you are just as much to blame as anyone else.   
  
And yet somehow, here you are.   
  
You remember when boys were just like any other child you'd play with. You don't remember   
  
exactly when it happened, but it was almost as if they'd morphed into a different species. The time of   
  
playful abandon was over. 'I HATE boys!' you remember yelling with such anger and conviction that   
  
you were sure it must be true. You remember seeing all the other girls start to like boys and one after the   
  
other get a boyfriend. Everyone but you. You do remember a hopeless crush though. 'But he's not a boy,   
  
he's a man,' you remember thinking, as if that justified it. He was kind and you were young and had no   
  
idea what real love entailed.  
  
As you got older they'd warn you about boys and being safe, ('As if I'm ever going to do anything   
  
like that,' you'd think,) and then he became your fiancee and they stopped telling you to be safe; they just told   
  
you to wait. ('As if I'm ever going to do anything like that,' you'd think, 'With him of all people.') Not that   
  
you had ever imagined yourself with anyone else.   
  
Somehow, here you lie.  
  
It's as if you've ignored your senses your entire life. You've lived in a world of sight and sound   
  
and suddenly he's brought you over to a world everything suffuses your senses. Your eyes are closed, and   
  
your hearing muffled, but that almost makes everything else more real.   
  
You try concentrating on one sensation after another, but they all rush at you at once. You are   
  
aware of nothing and everything. It's all there: the taste of his lips and his tongue and his teeth... the feel   
  
of his lips and his hands and just his skin everywhere it lies against yours.   
  
He even smells nice, almost spicy. Masculine. You're not sure exactly when you notice it, but   
  
you know this isn't the first time. It was there whenever he carried you and on the occasions that he loaned   
  
you his shirt. You'd smell like him for hours after he rubbed against you while neko. Not that you admitted   
  
at that point that you liked it. Of course, this didn't stop you from stealing one of his shirts. It's a nice scent;   
  
it's his scent, and right now it's everywhere.   
  
You never knew you had this many nerve endings. It's as if you can feel everything. His hands   
  
are rough and callused, but so are yours and neither of you cares. You can feel your pulse in every part of   
  
your body. You can feel his heart beating too, as it hammers against his ribs; against your breasts. It's beating   
  
even faster than yours.   
  
Here you lie, breathing.  
  
He draws back a bit and you look at each other. His eyes speak so clearly what he still cannot bring   
  
himself say that you forgive him for his insecurities, just as he has already forgiven you for yours. After a moment,   
  
he leans back down for another kiss. And another. And another. And...   
  
Here...   
  
Breathing. 


End file.
